Monday, April 18, 2016

Uprooting weeds
from last year's wild flowers,
I become aware of the stare
from eight eyes full of malice.
The funnel spider
crawls the wall
clearly pondering a pounce
as a battalion of ants begin their ascent
up my pant leg.

Later, I will find satisfaction
in a job well done
and a very warm oatmeal bath.